Seas and Saltwater
by starry19
Summary: 5x15 Tag - "Once, what seemed like a lifetime ago, he had told her she was still looking for magic in her life. An ocean glittering with starlight wasn't exactly what he had been imagining, but it was a start."


**AN**: I had no intention of writing a tag for this episode, but some lovely person dropped a plot bunny in my inbox on Tumblr, and I decided to run with it this morning. THANK YOU, wonderful anonymous person! I don't know if this was what you were expecting, but I hope you like i!

**Seas and Saltwater**

He wondered what her opposition was to boats. To him, there was something infinitely appealing about the freedom they provided, the ability to travel where it would otherwise be impossible. The ocean had long been the symbol of what could be, if only one had the courage to reach for the horizon.

Honestly, he figured Lisbon would've enjoyed boats. The thrill of the speed on open water, the fact that you had to rely on your own skill, the idea that if she wanted, she could go somewhere where she was well and truly alone, free from her responsibilities and burdens.

Perhaps he needed to show her how it could be. With a few quick motions, he dialed a number, spoke for a bit, then slipped his phone back in his pocket.

He slid his chair back from the desk in the attic, shoulders aching slightly from all the time he had spent slumped over one document or another, searching for the clue that would finally lead him to where he had been trying to go for almost a decade.

But this would all be here tomorrow.

Stretching, he stood, absently smoothing his hands over his wrinkled vest. The light outside the paned window told him it was early enough in the evening that Lisbon would probably still be around. Closed cases, though a good thing, still brought paper work. At least he hadn't been responsible for the accumulation of any extra forms this time.

That always put her in a grumpy mood, and he would have had to try even harder to get her to go along with his plans.

He had to admit, she had been fairly accommodating during the last case, even giving into his request to revisit the Vogelsong mansion.

Of course, she didn't know that he had been halfway tempted to make her return with him at night for the sole purpose of scaring her. It wouldn't have been difficult - the place was quite creepy enough as it was.

It was made even more so when he remembered what Patridge, that ghoulish asshole, had said about human fat being in the lighting. That would be enough to give _him_ nightmares, and that was certainly saying something.

It would have still been worth it to make Lisbon shriek in terror, at least until she figured out what was happening, and came after him with something sharp and pointy.

His footsteps sounded loud on the stairs as he made his way down to the SCU floor. The bullpen was nearly empty, his couch beckoning welcomingly from the corner. He ignored it in favor of lounging in Lisbon's doorway until she noticed him.

As he predicted, she was industriously filling out forms, absently playing with a pen as she read the fine print on what he thought was a 223c. He could be mistaken though; it wasn't something he paid particularly close attention to on most occasions.

It took her a few moments, but eventually she looked up, expression open, happy to see him. "Hey," she said, not bothering to set her pen down.

"Hey yourself," he replied, entering the room fully and perching on the edge of her desk.

"Red John get boring?" she asked lightly, but he could hear the exasperation and worry the lurked just below the surface of her words.

He smiled cryptically. "I decided my energy would be better focused somewhere else for the evening."

Almost immediately, she looked suspicious, and his grin widened. "Focused where, exactly?" she wanted to know.

He winked. "You'll find out." With one hand, he gestured behind her. "Get your coat."

She did as he instructed, even if her eyes were full of misgiving.

He settled a hand at her back as they left the office. The night was cool, but not overly chilly, and if they could get far enough away from the city lights, he was certain the clear skies would show them a wealth of stars.

They drove in silence for approximately three minutes before Lisbon could't contain herself. "Seriously, Jane, where the hell are we going?"

"Tsk, tsk," he muttered. "Absolutely no patience. Hasn't anyone ever told you that the best things in life are worth waiting for?"

"Yes," she replied instantly, "but none of those people had ever met you. I think they would revise their opinion of that statement if they had. Anything involving you is best dealt with sooner, rather than later."

He put a hand over his heart. "Why, Lisbon," he said, trying to sound wounded. "It's almost like you don't trust me."

She widened her eyes innocently. "I wonder why."

Her tone was half-serious, but he knew better. There was a time, yes, when she didn't trust him. However, he would bet anything that she did now. In fact, it was one of the few things he counted on in life. She had to trust him - she wouldn't go along with most of his schemes otherwise.

Truthfully, he knew love had much to do with that, too, but even blind affection didn't account for all of the risks she'd taken on his behalf. She loved her brothers, too, he knew, and she certainly didn't go along with every idea they had.

He found he relished the idea of someone both loving _and_ trusting him. For years, he wasn't sure if he wanted either of those things, or would ever be capable of having them again.

But it was something to hold onto when dark times circled around, as they were now. For his quest was going to come to a head, soon. He could feel it, like a restless energy under his feet, rising up from the ground to chase through his veins.

Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. Now was not the time for that.

The docks were dark, illuminated only by the sporadic blue and green marine lights.

He felt Lisbon's eyes on him as he parked, but she followed him out of the car anyway.

"Alright," she said slowly, looking around cautiously, "I'm not sure where I expected you to take me, but it definitely wasn't here."

"Surprise," he deadpanned.

She sighed. "God, Jane, tell me you don't think there's someone else hiding out on a yacht that I'm going to have to arrest."

"I think nothing of the sort," he promised her, the gentle pressure of his hand propelling her forward. "We're here in a strictly unprofessional capacity."

It was more difficult than he had anticipated to follow the directions he had been given in the dark, but eventually he managed to find the boat he was looking for. It was made for speed, but not particularly ostentatious.

Smiling, he climbed aboard, holding out his hand for Lisbon to take.

She stared. "What are you doing?"

He sighed. "Isn't that obvious? You and I are taking a boat ride."

Unconsciously, she took a step back. "We definitely are _not_. Are you out of your mind?"

"No more so than usual," he responded, hand still outstretched. "Get on the boat, Lisbon. I promise everything will be fine."

She eyed his proffered fingers as though they were a poisonous spider.

"So help me God, woman," he said, "I will physically drag you on here if I have to. Make it easier on both of us."

Muttering under her breath about how she'd like to see him try, she tentatively curled her fingers around his, and he carefully helped her aboard.

He kept her hand until she had managed to find her balance, then flitted around the small craft, untying ropes and turning on running lights.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Lisbon asked once, holding on to the back of an upholstered seat.

"Yes," he promised. "Believe it or not, I used to own a boat. It went much faster than this one does."

He could feel her gaze again, this time softer, a touch sorrowful, like it was every time he made a reference to his past. But he wasn't going to dwell there now.

As he started the motor, he saw her checking the locations of their lifejackets. Just before he engaged the throttle, she spoke again.

"Mind telling me what the point of all of this is?" she asked, gesturing around them.

"It's my civic duty to take away your dislike of boats, Lisbon," he said. "You really don't know what you're missing. And I promise that we're not going to drown."

She so rarely did anything just for fun that he found he was quite looking forward to trying to make her smile in exuberance. Besides, there was nothing to be worried about.

The dark water parted under the vessel as he slowly pulled away from the dock. As soon as they were past the no-wake zone, he pushed the throttle forward, noticing that Lisbon was hanging on to the side of the boat with a death grip.

He smiled, then made a sharp turn, delighted when she shrieked at him. The water got rougher the farther out they went, the choppiness of the waves bouncing them both around until Lisbon was demanding to know what the hell was wrong with him and was he trying to get them both killed, _you jackass_.

Laughing outright, he cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening as they bobbed helplessly.

"Well," he said, turning towards her, "we're not dead yet."

She looked furious. "No thanks to you," she hissed.

"Stand up," he told her. "You can't appreciate the view from where you are."

"I'm fine right where I am, thanks," she replied, sarcasm coloring her tone.

Sighing, he took the few steps that brought him directly in front of her. Without waiting for permission, he grabbed both of her hands and tugged her up. "It's an absolutely gorgeous evening," he said, "and you're going to enjoy it whether you want to or not."

Turning her shoulders, he pointed her so that she was looking across the bow, the moonlight shimmering down on the black waves that surrounded them. Just like he'd predicted, the sky was awash with twinkling stars. There was something unquestionably magical about it.

Once, what seemed like a lifetime ago, he had told her she was still looking for magic in her life. An ocean glittering with starlight wasn't exactly what he had been imagining, but it was a start.

He watched her face as she finally stopped being irritated with him enough to appreciate what she was looking at. Her frown smoothed out, the moonlight turning her skin the color of pure ivory, face framed by the softly curling tendrils of her dark hair.

"Not bad, huh?" he murmured, hands still on her shoulders. "Beats the hell out of the Sacramento skyline."

But she wasn't willing to give in that easily. "It'll be a miracle if we make it back alive. You drive a boat like you drive a car - like you're insane."

"Well, then, you'll be relieve to know that you're driving us back," he said, not even bothering to hide his smile as she faced him. His hands fell away.

"Not a chance, Jane," she stated firmly. "It's bad enough that I have to ride in this damn contraption."

He noted that she referred to his car and this boat both as contraptions. Apparently, in the mind of Teresa Lisbon, anything labeled contraption was bad and had the potential of killing her.

Silly woman.

"Oh, you'll do just fine," he assured her. "You can go as slow as you want."

In the pale light, he saw that she looked genuinely afraid. "I've never driven a boat," she admitted.

"I'll be right behind you," he promised.

He held her gaze, trying to reassure her. Eventually, she sighed, shoving him gently out of the way as she crossed to the driver's side. "Alright," she said. "How do I run this damn thing?"

"Turn the key," he said quietly, moving so that he was directly at her back, one arm resting against the back of the chair she was perched on.

He talked her through the steps, smiling at her determined expression. However, as she started back across the ocean, he saw the hint of a grin cross her face.

"It's alright if you enjoy yourself," he laughed.

In retaliation, she yanked the throttle, and they lurched forward rapidly. He nearly lost his footing, but held on to her shoulders, figuring it wasn't a bad idea if he kept an eye on where they were going.

The night air whipped around them, chilly but decidedly invigorating. He knew, however, that they would both be frozen by the time they reached the marina.

Definitely worth it, though.

Unexpectedly, Lisbon made a sharp turn, and she laughed out loud.

She sped the entire way back to the dock, occasionally veering one way or the other, expression one of jubilation. He thought he had probably cleared up her dislike of boats, which had been the entire point of the evening. It was difficult to resist something that gave such a thrill.

He instructed her to slow down for the no-wake zone, and as they drifted through the calm water, he noticed she was shivering.

Carefully, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She stiffened, and he smiled into her hair.

"Relax," he said. "There's no point in us both getting hypothermia."

To tell the truth, the warmth of her small body felt unspeakably good against him. He resisted the urge to stick his hands in her pockets, assuming that would probably be a step too far.

When they were nearly back at the dock, he rested his hands over hers on the steering wheel, guiding the boat into its spot. Just before the bumped the wood, he cut the engine and reached for one of the buoys, tying it between the craft and the dock.

After properly securing everything, they walked slowly back to his car. He slung one arm over her shoulders, ostensibly for warmth, and she didn't resist. Occasionally, she grinned, and he figured it was the residual exhilaration of her boat ride manifesting itself.

Still, definitely not the worst thing in the world.

He settled her in the Citroen, reluctant to let her go, but happy that she would still be with him, at least for a while.

They stopped for coffee (and tea) at a small diner on the way back to CBI.

"Thank you," Lisbon said once, softly. "I'm not saying boats still aren't death traps, but I have to admit I had fun tonight."

"I knew you would," he replied arrogantly, smirking, and she tossed a napkin at him.

"I should have thrown you overboard," she said. "It would probably save me a lot of trouble in the end."

"Probably," he conceded, "but who would take you for boat rides if I was dead?"

"You forget," she replied, "I'm now an expert in marine travel."

They both chuckled, and he took a second to be grateful for this moment. No matter what was coming, they still had this. The laughter, the amusement, the teasing, the memory of her body pressed against his.

He would savor it, call it back when he needed warmth.

And maybe she would do the same.

It was more than he deserved, but still, he hoped.

It was all he could do.


End file.
